


Growing Pains

by ferer56



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-11 09:33:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5622400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferer56/pseuds/ferer56
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pam had always been a bit reclusive, but when the florist suddenly turns down a request from the Joker, a nervous Harleen arrives to investigate, and hopefully prevent a meltdown from her boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Growing Pains

Harley Quinn shivered unintentionally as she glimpsed the sign, supposedly greeting her to this forsaken place. Welcome to Gotham Floristry! it read, right next to one of those solar powered dancing flowers she’d seen for a dime a dozen at kitschy tourist traps. It wasn’t dancing now. She knew the reason, she wasn’t stupid.

 _Yes you are_.

She shook her head. Now wasn’t the time, not with the feeling of foreboding clawing at her gut. It wasn’t like this was the first time she’d seen the place at night, but it was the first time she really saw the place at night. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

And to be honest it scared her.

She gripped the doorknob, trying to steady trembling fingers. Her friend needed her.

 _But surely not as much as you needed her_.

She pulled, and to her surprise the door gave way. It took her eyes some time to adjust to the dimmer light within, away from the relative safety of the streetlamps which flickered just outside.

Empty.

The shelves, upon which there had been housed many different flowers of every kind of color producing a kaleidoscope of aromas so pleasing to her nose.

Gone.

Every last one.

Except.

A lone rose sat amongst the shelves, a familiar one at that.Her makeup began to smudge as a red gloved hand twirled amongst it’s like. Red. Of course it had been red. No other color would have sufficed. She remembered that day, only a week ago in time, but an eternity in truth.

“Do you know what this rose is Harley?”

“Red?”

The woman laughed, teeth like pearls of a kind Harley often stole, the slightest hint of blush tinting her cheeks the loveliest shade of peach.

“I suppose it is. But this is rose is very special to me.”

“Aren’t all your roses special to ya’s?”

“Yes, yes they’re all my darlings but this one in particular…” She cooed as her green thumb brushed its green. “This one is-“

Harley’s phone rang.

The mood shattered as surely as if it had been shot, which is what was likely to happen to her if she didn’t hightail it back to the boss.

She remembered the look of bitter regret on the older woman’s face, the sheepish grin she’d offered in reply. The wrong look entirely. As if things were normal, as if it were alright.

“Harley…” she began, her tone soft as lilacs.

“Y-ya know I gots tah…” She gulped. Not another fight, she pleaded with whatever mockery of a deity had landed her in Gotham, just please not another fight.

It was kind that day, but only on the surface.

The red-haired woman merely sighed, shifting her gaze beyond the jester in front of her, flaunting the mark of his possession. “Please be careful Harley…”

“Course I will! Everything be right as rain! I’ll see ya’s soon alright?” She paused, “A-and of course as for the shipment…”

She waved away those concerns with one of her own. “Your boss,” She spat out the syllables, which sent a shiver down Harley’s spine even as it felt like a claw dragging up her psyche, “will get what he’s paying for.”

And with that she’d turned her back on Harley Quinn, walking away like so many others had. She felt something rumble in her belly then, an opportunity to take some remnant of her destiny back into her control. So of course she fled instead, back to the familiar, to the man who’d always take her back.

Always.

She hadn’t heard a peep since then. No texts, calls, IMs. Nothing. She shoved the dark thoughts out. Not very forcefully of course, they always came back soon to their fertile breeding ground. The point being, nothing, until.

Red: Don’t come back here.

Harl: Wat do u mean??

Harl: I ben tryin ta get in caontct wit you foreer!

Harl: Red?

Nothing, and this time she knew it wasn’t her atrocious texting habits that had driven Pam away. She bit her lip, she knew what was coming.

Nobody said no to him.

Nobody.

She had begged him, harder than she’d ever had. It amused him. That was becoming more and more of a novelty lately, a state of mind he was becoming increasingly unable to recapture. Perhaps that’s why he let it go. But of course he wasn’t going to let the deed go unpunished. He didn’t work like that. But she knew exactly how he did…

She winced at the memory.

_Does it still hurt?_

She began to hate the flower in her hand. What it reminded her of, a promise of reprieve. Of course it had led to pain, like she’d told herself so many, many times. She’d ignored that voice of reason, slight as it had been. She let herself get ensnared, and it had only led to yet another scar on the patchwork that was her mind.

She’d been weak and stupid.

She was always weak and stupid.

Always fucking up.

Always, always, always, always.

She squeezed, and red drowned red.

A sudden scream deafened her hearing. She jumped back, startled, as something descended creaky steps. Vines burst forth from the ground, wrapping around her feet before she could react. Her fingers tried to tear herself free, to no avail. Her heart beat faster, as whatever it was approached. “I told you not to come here.”

Harleen's mouth went dry, as if cotton stuffed her throat. “R-r-r” she choked out, vision blurring as her friend came into view.

“No.”

Her skin was green. Not with illness or nausea. Green. A vibrant emerald hue much like the eyes that now pierced her soul like thorns. It did not help matters she was naked as the day she was born, or perhaps re-born in this case. Though never particularly modest, Pam was leaving no element of her transformation to the imagination. She looked like a creature straight out of Day of the Triffids. If those creatures had been hot that is, and a blush quickly warmed her face though the sternness of Pam’s demeanor killed that rather silly mood quite quickly. “What the hell had happened?” was the first of a million questions racing through Harley’s mind, shattered by a voice.

“That vestige of my human life has been torn up by the root.”

She approached, a cacophony of vines following her every step. Harley tried to speak, tried to say something, anything to her former friend. Yet she didn’t seem to care, ignoring her attempts. Instead she bent down to pick up the flower that had been crushed.

“My poor baby… Shhh… I’ll take care of you; I’ll fix the hurt this meat has caused.”

It felt like a shot to the stomach.

Quinzel felt her legs tremble, as the woman nonchalantly handed the plant off to a vine, which quickly vanished up the darkened steps.

“But first… I must tear this vestige out as well.”

Harley felt the vines dig deeper into her flesh, breaking skin and causing her to wince.

“P-please…” she whimpered, the green glow of eyes following her every shudder.

“Please? When you harmed my rose, did you not think of the suffering you would cause? Or are you merely cruel, hurting those weaker than yourself because you are not strong enough to fight those who would harm you?”

“R-red, I-”

"Do not call me by that name!”

Pam was suddenly upon the younger woman, green hands upon her throat.

It was then the clown saw it.

That look again.

A look she’d seen so many times before.

Reflexively, she sputtered, “Please don’t hurt me, Mistah J…”

The older woman pulled her hand back as if she’d been burnt.

No, it was more than that.

She was trembling now, eyes wide and horrified.

Harley felt the vines release her from their grip, and she fell forward with a thud. She glanced up, seeing the small of the nude woman’s back. She looked so small, so helpless, that Harley couldn’t help but…

_Give in._

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

“Do you always apologize to your abusers?” The woman intoned darkly, a hint of that old anger creeping into her voice.

“I-”

“It doesn’t matter. Leave.” She muttered below her breath. “Leave this place, before it becomes your grave.”

“I don’t want to.” Harley said softly, so softly she wasn’t sure if it had carried.

It had.

The woman turned around, facing the one whom she had nearly killed. “What?”

“I said, I don’t want to go…” The implicit message carried louder than her words.

“You would trade one abuser for another? A kicked puppy looking for a home amongst the feet that bring it pain? You-” She bit her lip, a light green liquid oozed down her chin. “No, no I can’t care about this. I don’t care about this.”  
“But you do…” Harley whispered, some semblance of her former profession emerging to the fore

_And you remember how well that went._

She ignored it, she didn’t have a choice, continuing her wobbling train of thought. “Even if-

“Stop, Harley.” The red-head snapped, even as the jester’s mind raced, reading into her every word and motion.

“You didn’t call me meat.” It was a flat statement, delivered with all the gusto and panache of a particularly boring history professor.

Pamela cracked.

Then she screamed.

Harley felt a pang, as she saw herself moaning in despair, a strong façade masking the brittleness inside. She reached out to her friend, to offer some kind of solace. Before her fingers could caress the reddened locks of curly hair, the body shook and fled as if fearful of the contact.

“Don’t touch me…”

“Ok, ok I- I can give ya your space, I”-

“No, no you don’t understand. If you touch me you will die.”

Harley couldn’t hold her gasp, nor her widening eyes, as the true nature of her friend’s transformation became clear to her.

“I’m a monster now Harley… the only friends I can have are the plants within my care. Everything else… everything else just…withers away…” She paused, as if searching for the words. “I want that though. I hate humanity, I have realized what they’ve done, truly understand now the evils of mankind, the affronts to nature that day by day…” She choked on a sob, tears brimming in her eyes, “I myself advanced…”

Harley understood, if not the reasons for the woman’s pain. Her earlier questions returned with a vengeance, but she bit her tongue instead, letting her friend get to things on her own good time.

“I traded the green of mother nature, for the green of business and industry. I needed a way to pay through grad school, and I thought this little shop did no harm… But I was a fool. I sold plants to people I knew would not take care of them; I cut bouquets for people because they thought they were pretty. I let so many of my darlings die, to waste away in neglect, tore apart so many friends from one another, left entire families in ruin. I was nothing but a modern day slave trader, making money off the misery of others…” her voice crackled with pain and anger.

“I tried to make amends, I… found some of the plants I’d sold, heard their voices crying out for help. I rescued them. But I could not save them all… I found a plant that had died of neglect, its owner had never watered it, had only bought it to please another piece of meat.” She paused again, eyebrows knitting together.

“I killed him, Harley. One touch was all it took… I seduced him in his kitchen, the very place he’d murdered that beautiful chrysanthemum. I felt his pulse quicken, I felt it quicken until it simply stopped. And I don’t feel regret. I saw it as a rite of passage in an understanding of myself. A journey to divorce myself from man, from woman, from the life which clings so awkwardly to the musculature within my body, a constant reminder of the creature I am not, and will never live to be. You were the last thing, the last tie I had beyond my body’s flesh and bone…” She went quiet, as if mulling something over in her mind, swishing it around to gauge if she liked the taste. “I was going to kill you.”

“I know.” Harley replied calmly, even as she saw the woman’s fingers flex in frustrations.

“Why are you just… standing there listening to me? Why don’t you hate me? Are you such a perennial victim you’ve forgotten what it means to fight back?” She spat, her fury redoubling in on itself.

“No, and most anyone who messes wit' me would get such a wallop from my trusty mallet they wouldn’t know sunrise from sunset!” She started, her eyes twinkling at the notion; she wanted to feel that bubbly confidence one last time. “That being said though… I know this can’t continue. I’m living on borrowed time. Whether at your hand, or his, it really makes no difference to me anymore.” The cotton candy and bubblegum evaporated like the absence it had always been. A mask she’d worn for him, her own special contribution to the cycle of abuse she had begun that lonely night so many years ago at Arkham.

“H-harleen…”

“It’s been a long time since anyone’s called me that.”

“I know you’ve heard this before. I bet it’s been beaten into your psyche for longer than I’ve known you. But please believe me when I say.” Her eyes looked straight into Harley’s own, not past her or beside her, and the younger girl felt the intensity of that stern, maternal gaze. “I won’t ever hurt you again.”

Harley smiled wanly.

“I know.” She replied, a sweeter taste left on her tongue then on all the times before. The plant’s eyes shimmered, the most terrifying emotion clawing its way out from within Harley's torrid soul.

Hope.

A hope that could not be.

Harley’s heart tightened in her chest, knowing what was coming.

“Then does that mean?”

Harley shook her head, her blue eyes full of pity.

“But, you said you’d stay…”

The clown was quiet, avoiding those gleaming green eyes which seemed to glow with inner passions. Her voice was soft and lilting. “I said I didn’t want to go.” Dark images flashed within Harley’s mind, the kind that kept her up at night with the stars her only solace, twinkling bastions of a freedom she could only glimpse. “But, it doesn’t matter what I want, I can’t just walk away...”

“Yes, that’s exactly what you can do! I can protect you.”

“We both know that won’t work.”

“No, no we don’t know.” She growled, as things unsaid before came tumbling out her mouth, “Things are different now. I’m different now. Before I couldn’t, and it hurt to know that even if you wanted to remain I couldn’t save you from his grip, but now I can, now I can give us a fighting chance. You and me… well, not against the world, but you know what I mean.”

Harley couldn’t help but crack a grin; she knew that things must be desperate if the red-head was making jokes. “Yes but I’m…”

 _Not worth the effort_.

“I’ll find an antidote, a way to immunize you to the toxins in my system. I know I can do it, we’ll just have to be careful, you and I, until I do…”

Harley shook her head yet again; it was easier than talking, though she knew her friend needed something, no matter how much it may hurt. She was used to that by now. “That’s not what I’m worried about. I told you before I’m not worried over who will kill me, but I do care how I’ll die. You don’t understand him. He’ll find us. No matter where we hide. Not because he cares, but just to show he can. He’ll keep you alive long enough for me to see him carve a grin onto your face, and then… and then…” Tears began to flow, as the jester turned away. “I’m sorry. I can’t…” She tried to walk away, until a bed of thorns emerged from the ground, blocking her escape.

“I won’t let you leave Harley…”

“Just like him, huh?”

“God, now is not the time for your psychobabble crap! Harley, please, please don’t do this, please don’t leave. I… a part of me was scared, scared you’d take my advice, that you wouldn’t come again, that you wouldn’t care at all, yet here you came and I… Harley I-”

She saw where this was going, all the tension between them detonating all at once.

There was no way out.

No way out but-

_You’re too big a coward._

Before the red-head could react, Harley had placed black lips on green.

No I’m not.

The moment lasted just a second.

It was the greatest experience of her life.

She felt woozy, falling backwards to the floor.

She heard a scream, the scream of one she loved.

Yet despite that, she proffered one last smile.

After all, how many girls like her got to die the way they wanted?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Wake up._

A voice, gentler than the last one that had taken refuge in her mind.

Except…

It was more than one voice wasn’t it?

A thousand different voices, melding into one.

_Wake up._

Her eyelids fluttered open, any thoughts of death banished from her mind.

Through blurred vision: sun-kissed flowers, as far as she could see, garden of some sort.

No.

An Eden.

A voice she knew quite well echoed from behind her.

Along with a thousand others.

“Harley, please understand.”

She tried to crane her neck to follow that familiar sound.

To no avail.

Her head was pounding, and her body-

Felt.

Wrong.

She felt another's hands upon her, but she knew that could not be.

Unless.

**Unless.**

She lifted trembling fingers before unbelieving eyes.

Green.

She tried to speak, but a choking sob was all that came.

She was pulled into an embrace, surprisingly warm, as that voice whispered in her ear.

“This truly was the only way.”

“What… did you do…” She managed with herculean effort between shivering moans.

“Shhh… listen, listen and you’ll know…”

The voices came again, clearer now.

Not in any language she could describe nor with any tongue she could repeat.

Yet still she understood.

“They chose us Harley, because we were victims like the earth…”

The former jester felt calm infuse itself throughout her body.

“Do you feel it? Coursing through your veins?”

Like a river, tearing down all the walls necessity had constructed.

“That’s nature, reclaiming what was lost…”

Her fears and anxieties swept away by a roaring tide, remnants of a nightmare from which she had awoken.

As if on cue, a rose sprouted from the earth, a brilliant shining red.

“I never did tell you what rose that was did I?” She began, weaving dainty digits through strands of flaxen blonde hair.

“No, you never did R-“

Harleen caught herself.

“Please, call me that again...”

Pam could almost feel the bubbly girl’s grin, somehow purer than before.

Her.

It was her this time.

Her and not-

“Red… I always liked that name…A reminder of the one thing I won’t give up from the life I had before.”

They bathed each other with their quiet for a time, enjoying the shimmering sunset right before the dark.

“Sooo, about that rose?”

Harleen heard a slight chuckle, as fingers wrapped around her own, guiding towards that brilliant crimson hue.

“You see that’s a very special rose.”

They grasped the rose together.

“It reminds me of you.”

Carefully, they plucked the flower from its stem.

“And why’s that?”

Harley could almost feel the others smile, radiating warmth like a sun behind her.

“Why, because it is a harlequin, my Harley Quinn.”

Her hand was moved again, this time gently to her hair, the flower laying roots into her scalp.

“Your Harlequin…” The recently reborn woman mused.

She caressed the hand that held her, felt the closeness of their beating hearts, pumping green not red.

“I like that.”

And with a mischievous grin that was hers and hers alone, Harley kissed again the woman who had rescued her from slavery.

This time, it did not last a second.

Later, they viewed Gotham from afar, source of the glittering lights that outshone the very stars themselves, spewing noxious fumes that killed the very earth that bred them.

Ungrateful creatures.

“What now?” Harlequin asked, her blue eyes shimmering in the twilight.

Red smiled, as the first of many enormous snaking tendrils erupted from the earth.

“We let nature run its course, my harlequin…”

She squeezed the hand of the woman whom she loved, and felt hers squeezed in turn.

“We let nature run its course…”


End file.
